All the world’s a stage.

Whenever I’m working off a script, I see things (dialogue, actions, etc) exactly as I think they should be. I can hit play, and my internal silver screen lays it all out for me. It’s just a matter of making it real. What I’m looking for might be subject to change, but there’s always some goal in my head that I’m moving towards. Staying on book is, of course, a big deal. The words are there for a reason. The actions, however vague on the page, still work with the words to color the whole nature of the scene.

You can play with it once you’re in the moment, but at the heart of it all’s still the script. It’s where every film or play begins.

Sometimes I feel like life’s that way too.

Articulating this can sound awful, but it’s true: It’s not hard to see a situation play out like it’s part of that flick that’s always rolling in my head. People are people, they have free will up to a point, and I believe that. But there’s patterns to human behavior, and I’ve realized that I can call them sometimes a little better than I’d like. It tests just how much of what we do actually is us, and how much of it’s other people. Or genetics. Or any of the other three million and five variables out there in regards to how we work.

It’s not a matter of intelligence, or thinking I’m better than anyone else. I just see patterns. It helps me imagine situations I’ve never experienced, and write them down. It lets me see things from another person’s perspective, even when I absolutely don’t want to. (This has been happens a lot, and the side effect is preaching; I wind up telling others my general analysis of the whole thing, and why it’s important to try and look at this end, and blah blah blah… After all, if other people could see the patterns, wouldn’t things run more smoothly? Except it doesn’t work like that.) This breaks down in the face of my temper, sometimes completely. Human, but still.

It’s disconcerting. I get accusations of being ‘insightful’, and sometimes there’s nothing worse. If you call things as you see them, especially if you’re not properly diplomatic about it, the people you’re analyzing can hate you for it. There’s being abrasive enough (See what I did there?), and then there’s crossing the line. But staying behind it constantly can whittle down any sense of a filter until how it is, or how I think it is, comes out whether I want it to or not.

It really is just patterns, and sometimes I wish I didn’t see them. But then I don’t think I could write without them, so the perspective gained makes it necessary.

On a personal end that isn’t a shaky diatribe fraught with angst and woe, despite it being an excellent week movie-wise (Shame, Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows, and Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, all very much an excellent time. Tinker Tailor is easily the top of the heap though; beautiful imagery, excellent detail, and equally fantastic performances down the line.), it’s been a hellishly bad week on multiple levels, so I haven’t been keeping up my end of the bargain here.

I’m officially switching over updates from every day to every other, at least until after the holidays. I like doing this on a regular basis, so maybe a bit of a break in between will give me some room while I’m working my way through all this ridiculousness. While I’m still having the worst time conceptualizing moving into N’s house, I have to say I’m looking forward to it. The silence might drive me crazy when it comes, but there’ll be space to breathe.

At least that’s what I’m hoping for, anyway.


~ by Sara on December 17, 2011.

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